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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813275">Six Feet Under</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood'>aravenwood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Buried Alive, Hurt Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe has never been more afraid than he is right at this moment, as he sprints through a cemetery in the dead of night searching for the grave of the man he loves. </p><p>Written for day 4 of Whumptober, for the prompt "buried alive".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache &amp; Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani &amp; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Six Feet Under</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is a fic I've been weirdly wanting to write for a while - I kept wondering how often they've been mistaken for being dead, and then it went one step further as I wondered if anyone has ever buried one of the team as if they're dead. </p><p>Yes, these are the things I think about...</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Joe has never been more afraid than he is right at this moment, as he sprints through a cemetery in the dead of night searching for the grave of the man he loves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all the time that they have been alive, this has never happened before - no one has ever thought to pack one of them in a coffin and bury them six feet under. It’s a little surprising, really, but Joe is nothing but grateful because he can’t stop imagining Nicky hammering on the lid, knuckles cracked and bloody and his voice hoarse from screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows Andy is thinking about Quynh and he can’t help but do the same. All of the dreams he’s had, all of the nights he’s spent with her fear and rage clinging to his own chest, or sitting with Andy as she shivers through the memory of the day they took Quynh from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if Nicky is thinking about her too, or if he’s too blind in his own panic to make the comparison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe isn’t sure which he would prefer, or which makes him less worried for Nicky’s sanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The graveyard is dark and silent save for Andy and Booker in the distance, shouting for Nicky and hoping that he will reply. He’s sure they’re just as aware as he is that Nicky is so deep underground with so much dirt pressing on top of his coffin that he won’t hear them, but it seems to make them more comfortable when they think that they can do more than just look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouting brings none of the same comfort for Joe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve been searching for hours, squinting at every patch of earth and trying to distinguish between newly dug graves and untouched dirt. It would be difficult during the day never mind at night, but there’s no way that they’re leaving Nicky underground for any longer than they have to. Searching at night is the only option Joe will accept.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tears in his eyes are probably not helping much either. What if they never find Nicky? What if they’re somehow at the wrong graveyard, or they’ve missed the patch of dirt which gives away his position? What if he’s trapped down there for days or weeks or years, driven mad by the silence and the dark, suffocating over and over again just like Quynh? Joe is certain that he won’t be able to survive without Nicky; his heart, his world, his everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s halfway to a breakdown when he hears Booker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, over here! I’ve found him, I’ve found Nicky!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe almost forgets to hold onto his shovel as he sprints across the graveyard, hopping over shorter gravestones and dodging around larger ones. He meets Andy halfway, and when they reach Booker he’s already buried his shovel into the ground and tossing the dirt over his shoulder. Neither of them says a word, they just join him in his digging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the hole gets deeper, Joe begins to shout. “Nicolo, can you hear me? We’re here, my love, I’m coming! It’s alright, you’re safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their shovels never find a coffin, but they do find a body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rage builds in Joe as he tosses aside his shovel and reaches into the grave, shoving his hand into the dirt and finally, mercifully finding an arm. He pulls, and drags Nicky’s cold body from the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicky’s skin is pale, what little of it they can see under the thick layer of dark brown dirt covering every inch of his body. His t-shirt is torn, his nostrils clogged and he’s not breathing. Joe wastes no time in using his fingers to wipe the dirt from over Nicky’s lips and in his nose, and he wrenches apart Nicky’s jaw to find his mouth filled with dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s absently aware of Andy taking hold of Nicky’s shoulder and rolling him to the side, and using her fingers to pull the dirt from his mouth. When she’s sure that it’s empty and that he’ll be able to breathe, they all sit back and wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes an age for Nicky to come back to them. For too long he’s still and silent, his lips and fingertips blue from a lack of air. Joe feels himself shaking, almost flinches when Booker wraps an arm around him and tells him that it will be ok. He wants to believe the Frenchman, but time crawls by and Nicky is yet to take a breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joe…” Andy says softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Do not say it. He isn’t gone, he’ll come back to me. He will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as if Nicky hears him, he suddenly draws in a gasp so violent that his back arches off the ground and his eyes roll back into his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe lunges forwards and pulls Nicky into his arms, bracing the other man against his chest. “I’m here, it’s ok. We’re here. You’re safe, you’re out, you’re ok,” he whispers into Nicky’s ear, rocking him back and forth and making soft hushing noises. Nicky’s body convulses with violent sobs, so desperate that he can barely breathe around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get him out of here,” Booker suggests, but Joe ignores him. He isn’t going anywhere, not yet. Not until Nicky can look him in the eye and say that he’s ready to move, until Joe is sure he’s not going to pass out from hyperventilating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Judging from the way Booker pulls off his jacket and wraps it around Nicky’s shivering form, he gets the message. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joe,” Nicky chokes out. He makes other noises, soft splutters that should be words but he isn’t strong enough to form them. But Joe gets the message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Nicky. I’ll always come for you. Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kneel beside the open grave until the sun begins to rise, and Joe never once loosens his hold. He has Nicky back and finally he can breathe.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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